


Muddy Waters

by CuriousReader



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-05-28 17:52:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15054590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriousReader/pseuds/CuriousReader
Summary: Franky is on the run to prove her innocence, and she's about to find out that Iman wasn't the only one involved.





	1. Chapter 1

_“I’m sorry, but I had to lie to you. Mr. Stewart didn’t buy my story at all; he was on to me…”_

_-  - -  -  - -  -  -_

_“Jenkins?”_

_“Here.”_

_“Birdswirth?”_

_“Yep.”_

_“Doyle?”_

_“…”_

_Miss Miles looked up from her clipboard, frustrated that Doyle didn’t answer._

_“Get out here, Doyle,” she said as she walked closer to Franky’s cell. “You too, Novak… Doyle!”_

_When no one answered, Miles, walked the rest of the way to Franky’s cell and opened the door._

_“Doyle!”_

_Miles looked inside and saw that no one was there. She looked back at the other women of H1 wanting an explanation._

_-  - -  -  -  -_

_“…but I think I found a way to protect you; to get you out.”_

_-  - -  -  -  -_

_“This is Sierra 3, I’ve got a Code: Green in H1. I repeat I’ve got a Code: Green. Doyle’s not in her cell.”_

_-  - -  -  -  -_

_“Miles, any sign of Doyle,” Vera asked as she came closer to H1._

_“No, and the women aren’t talking.”_

_Vera looked at the women standing outside their cells. She knew they’d never lag on Doyle. She grabbed the walkie-talkie on her hip and raised it to her lips._

_“This is Sierra 2. We have a Code: Green. Lock this prison down, now!”_

_-  - -  -  -  -_

_Franky stopped on the side of the street across from Life Solutions. She saw a woman walking out of the building, and was grateful it was the very woman she was looking for._

_….._

_Bridget was walking towards her car when she looked up and saw Franky. She stopped mid-stride, frozen in disbelief, mouth slightly open in either an inhale or an exhale…she didn’t know. All she knew was that the only woman she’d ever loved was standing across the street with her arms open wide, yelling across the busy street between them._

_“I love you…and I’ll be back!”_

_…_

_Franky meant every word of it. She loved her…and she would be back. She had to come back. She had a life with Bridget, a home, and a job… She had to get that back._

_…_

_Bridget started to walk closer to Franky as if the mere presence was drawing her in. Before she could get anywhere, Franky turned around and ran back the way she came._

_\- - - - -_

_“Attention compound, attention compound… This is a Code: Green. Attention compound, attention compound… This is a Code: Green.”_

_\- - - - -_

_“So get going, run like hell, and clear your name.”_

_“You need to prove your innocence…”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The women aren't talking and the police want to question everyone...including recently resigned forensic psychologists

“Do you know where Franky Doyle is?”

 

“How the fuck should I know, hey?”

 

\- - - - - -

 

“Joan Ferguson and Franky Doyle are missing. Do you know where they are?”

 

“I couldn’t tell ya’, love.”

 

\- - - - - -

 

“Where’s Doyle, Novak?”

 

“What- she’s missing? Fuck! I dunno where she is… Did you check her cell?”

 

\- - - - - -

 

Vera watched Novak through the glass of the interrogation room. She wasn’t talking; none of them were. Vera knew they would never lag on Doyle. If her job wasn’t in trouble before, it was now. Not one, but two inmates were missing, and if they had indeed escaped from the prison, she at least had an idea where Doyle could be. However, Doyle's escape was the least of her worries. Ferguson was also missing, and she felt a chill run down her spine for the hundredth time since finding this out. Ferguson was a psychopath and a murderer with a vendetta against all of them, especially her. That’s what scared her the most. She would be the first person Ferguson would come after.

 

Vera turned around at the sound of a knock as Ms. Miles came in only half way, and she knew the only reason the officer would be there would be because the police had arrived.

 

“The police are here. They’re waiting in the Governor’s office.”

 

“Thank you, Ms. Miles. Please, escort Novak back to H1. We’re still on lockdown. No one is allowed to leave their unit.”

 

“Yes, Gov…Ms. Bennett.”

 

Vera didn’t acknowledge Ms. Miles mistake of almost calling her “Governor”, however, it did feel good that the woman still saw her as a superior. She sighed and stood from her desk, pulling her suit jacket down sharply to straighten it, and made her way to Channing’s office. Vera was not ready to deal with the repercussions of two inmates escaping. They hadn’t had an escape since Bea Smith and, technically, she escaped the hospital, not the prison. The other, more tragic exodus from the prison had been in fact coordinated by herself. Scapegoating the blame on another officer didn’t alleviate the guilt of Smith’s death in her mind. She closed her eyes briefly before entering the small office. Her secrets were piling up.

 

The police would want to not only question the inmates, but the staff as well and Vera knew that would include Bridget. She resigned a few weeks ago, but they would want to question anyone and everyone who was close to Doyle…and Bridget knew her the best. Deep down she knew that Bridget didn’t have a part in this, but a small part of her questioned her friend’s loyalty to the inmate. The last time she saw Bridget she was a wreck and not herself. She’d shown up at the house a devastated mess, and had clearly needed to talk. Vera cursed herself and Jake and for _ever_ falling for his pack of lies. Bridget had needed her in that moment, and she had been torn between her friend and Jake. How she regretted that now.

 

When Vera stepped through the office door, two detectives looked over their shoulders at her. Channing stood from his seat behind the desk and moved forward to introduce the detectives.

 

“Ms. Bennett, these are Detectives Ansari and Harris. They’ve been working Doyle’s murder cases. Detectives, this is Deputy Vera Bennett.”

 

Vera moved towards the detectives and shook their hands in greeting. “Detectives, thank you for coming so quickly. Will you be supervising Joan Ferguson’s escape as well?” Vera watched as Detective Ansari stepped toward and spoke up first.

 

“Actually, Detective Michael Mears will be presiding over Ms. Ferguson’s case since he’s more familiar with her file. We’re here for Franky Doyle. We’ll need to question the other inmates of Ms. Doyle’s unit.”

 

“I’ve already questioned the inmates of Doyle’s unit and came up empty handed, so I’m not sure you’ll get anything out of them. The women here have a no tolerance policy on informing on other inmates.”

 

The detective nodded her head in understanding. “For protocol purposes, we’d like to question them anyway and we also need to question any officers that have dealt with Ms. Doyle in the past and any other staff that knew Ms. Doyle.” Channing took this moment to finally speak up.

 

“You’ll be wanting to speak with our forensic psychologist, Ms. Westfall. She knows Doyle the best and has a history with her,” he said with an arrogant look on his face. _Damn you, Channing,_ Vera thought.

 

Vera took a small step to the left, unobtrusively putting herself in the detective's path.   
  


"Actually, Ms. Westfall is no longer a part of our staff. She resigned for health reasons a few weeks ago," Vera was calm. She didn't care for this detective. She didn't like the smirk on her face when she had brought Franky back to prison. She had watched the footage of the interrogation with unease. Vera was an officer of the legal system, just like the woman before her, and even she could see holes in the investigation. It seemed…hurried.

 

She still wasn't convinced that Franky even had the strength to kill Iman, let alone have the motive. She'd just been diligently helping the young woman with her case! Wasn't it just a week ago that Franky begged her to use a computer to help Iman? Nothing was adding up. And the very fact that Ferguson was involved in this latest charge twisted Vera's stomach. She knew to her core that Franky was no killer, and Ferguson…even without that damn burden of proof… _was_. 

  
And now Franky was gone, escaped a maximum-security prison because she'd completely lost faith in the justice system. There was something fundamentally wrong with that. Prisoners attempt escape often, but never once to clear their name. To be so adamantly convinced of innocence! Vera knew Franky better than any of the other people before her. As much as she frowned at Franky's choices, she couldn't help but understand her sheer desperation. The game seemed…rigged somehow.   
  


As for Bridget, Vera couldn't let these detectives get to her first. There were several reasons for this conclusion. One, Vera knew that eventually Franky would attempt to contact her. If the boundaries of prisoner/ psychologist hadn't stopped their gravitation towards each other, certainly Franky now being a fugitive wouldn't either. Bridget's life would be ruined if she were caught with Franky, and Vera cared too much for her to see that inevitable twist happen. And two, Bridget, albeit quite a mess at the moment, was far more likely to let her guard down if Vera was able to explain the situation and how important it was to find Franky before she was hurt…or worse. The woman was smart, and Vera knew how quickly she would shut down if confronted by this detective. She would see immediately what Vera was still coming to grips with. Ansari was…off.   
  


"If you'd like," she offered carefully, "I could contact her and ask her to come in to answer any questions you may have? It would save time for you while you question the other women."  
  


Ansari clearly hated the idea. Was that a flash of mistrust in her eyes? Vera held her ground, firm.

 

"We are friends. She will talk to me and she will help your investigation. Our goal is the same, detective. Ms. Westfall has every right to stand by the law of patient/therapist confidentially. I believe it would be in all our best interests if she could be persuaded to help this case, rather than be another dead end, wouldn't you agree?"  
  


Detective Ansari looked as if she wanted to shut Vera's request down, but Detective Harris interrupted her attempt, obviously grateful for her cooperation. He didn't notice the scathing look his partner gave Vera.   
  


"Thank you, Ms. Bennett. That would be very helpful to us," he said as he handed her his business card. "If you wouldn't mind, just give this to Ms. Westfall. We'd like to speak to her tomorrow if at all possible."

 

Vera took the card from Detective Harris and nodded her head as a thank you. Detective Ansari didn’t look too happy with the agreement, but kept her words to herself and moved on to the next agenda.

 

“I know it’s late, but we need to go ahead and question the women from Ms. Doyle’s unit and then we’ll need to question your officers. The faster we can get this done, the faster we can get to catching Ms. Doyle.”

 

“Yes, of course. I can escort you to one of our common rooms and have an officer bring you a woman to question.” Detective Ansari spoke up before Vera could continue.

 

“My partner can question your staff while I question the women. We’d like to get this done in a timely manner.”

 

“Of course. Uh…Detective Harris? You can set up in my office if you’d like?” Detective Harris gave Vera a small grin and nodded his thanks.

 

A cleared throat drew their attention to the Governor’s desk where Channing still stood. It was if he hadn’t been there for the whole conversation and had just appeared. Vera could see that he didn’t like being left out of the conversation. Channing was a sadistic, perverted pig who needed to be the center of attention. Vera hated that he walked all over her, but still expected her to do all the work. Vera took small pleasure in the fact that even though he was Acting Governor the women, and the officers, even the detectives here, saw her as the one in charge.

 

“Now that that’s settled, why don’t we get down to business, yeah? Ms. Bennett, why don’t you escort Detective Harris to your office and I’ll escort Detective Ansari to one of our common rooms,” he said with a slight smirk on his face. Vera was disgusted, but held her feelings back. She couldn’t believe his unprofessionalism… well, she could. Was he really trying to make a pass at the detective at a time like this? _As if he’d ever have a chance with her._

 

“Of course. Detective Harris, would you follow me, please?” Vera opened the door and waited for Detective Harris to walk out first. She shut the door and began to escort him through the hallway. It didn’t take long for the detective to speak his mind.

 

“Has he always been a pretentious bastard?”

 

Vera let out a small laugh and grinned. They reached Vera’s office and she opened the door for him to enter before answering his question.

 

“You have no idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's chapter 2 for ya! Chapter 1 was more of a prologue so I thought I'd post a real chapter :D  
> Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bridget's had a rough night trying to process whether she actually saw Franky. On top of that, she's being questioned by the police.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I said before that I would post once a week, but I got tired of waiting so here's another chapter for you. Enjoy! :D

Bridget didn’t sleep a wink last night. She tossed and turned all night with thoughts of Franky. It didn’t seem real...as if her mind was playing tricks on her or Franky was a ghost. She had stood, helplessly frozen, as Franky yelled from across the street. 

 

_ I love you...and I’ll be back! _

 

How was she supposed to process that? When Franky ran away, she wanted to chase after her, but she couldn’t move.

 

When she regained control of her body, she got into her car and headed home. It was like she was on autopilot. She didn’t feel like eating, and alcohol wasn’t an option now that she was cutting back. She barely touched her dinner and roamed her empty house...fulfilling one bit of routine after the other until she was in bed. A part of her had hoped that she would go to sleep and wake up knowing it had all been just a dream; however it wasn’t that simple. It never was. She tossed and turned, trying to figure how Franky got out. It was around four in the morning when she decided to give up on sleep and made her way into the kitchen to put on a pot of tea. A black and white ball of fur followed her into the kitchen.

 

Franky had been on her way home from work when she found the cat outside the paralegal office. She could always put up a tough exterior, but she was a softy at heart. She had wanted to call the cat Reginald, and Bridget wanted to name it Franky 2.0 because it got into all sorts of mischief. Then Franky suggested they call it Puss. Bridget knew why she wanted to call it that and thought it was too cliché for a lesbian couple, but the name somehow stuck.

 

Bridget sat at the bar sipping at her tea with Puss sitting on her lap. She had the telly on with the news broadcasting. She wanted to hear when Franky’s escape broke the news. Two hours had passed since she’d come into the kitchen and still no story on Franky. She wasn’t sure if that was good news or bad. She sighed and looked wearily out the kitchen window. The sun was just rising, and her alarm clock would go off any minute now. 

 

She was hesitant to get ready for work, but she decided to go through her day as usual. She wasn’t required to come in today, and she didn’t have any appointments, but she wanted to go in and finish some paperwork. She hoped the paperwork could, at least, distract her from Franky.

 

So she showered and changed into her work attire. She went back into the kitchen for some coffee and glanced at the telly again. There was still no news on Franky’s escape, and Bridget had to believe that was a good thing. Whatever Franky’s plan was she would need all the time she could get without being hunted down by the police.

 

Bridget was taking her last sip of coffee when her doorbell rang. She was a bit startled by the sudden noise in her quiet house. What if it was the cops or Franky? She let out a deep breath then got out of her chair, Puss jumping down to the floor, and walked to the door. She placed her hand on the handle and opened the door to none other than Vera Bennett.

  
  


“Vera?” Vera was not who Bridget expected to be here this early in the morning. She thought she would have at least been tied up at the prison due to the recent escape.

 

“Is she here?” Vera walked inside not waiting for Bridget to invite her in. She walked to the kitchen looking at every corner of the house for any sign that Franky was there. She turned to face Bridget to assess whether she would lie or not.

 

“Vera-.”

 

“Is she here?”

 

“Who are you talking about?”

 

“Franky. Is she here?”

 

“Of course not. How could she be here?”

 

“Because she escaped last night! Ferguson, too.”

 

“Ferguson is missing? How is that possible?” No wonder Vera looked so worried. There was an actual psychopath on the loose potentially out to get those who wronged her and Bridget and Vera would most definitely be on that list.

“I don’t know. We’ve searched the entire prison and couldn’t find Doyle or Ferguson. None of the women are talking. Channing is doing everything he can to cover his ass, and I’ve been dealing with the police for most of the night…”

 

“How did they escape?”

 

“We think they escaped through the garden shed. There was a shipment yesterday, and we think that’s how they got out. Doyle was a part of the garden project, so she’s probably been planning this for a while. I don’t know how Ferguson came into it.”

 

“Surely you don’t think they escaped together?”

 

“Of course not. Ferguson could be dead for all I know, and the women have somehow hidden her body. Franky is a different matter.”

 

“I don’t know where she is.” 

 

“Have you seen her?” Vera had been Bridget’s friend long enough to know she needed to ask the right question.

 

Bridget hesitated for a moment. She could lie. She could tell Vera that she hadn’t seen her or she could tell her the truth. “I have seen her-.”

 

“Bridget.” Vera brought her hand up to her face to try and relieve the tension of a headache she’s had for the last twenty-four hours.

 

“It was for a moment, and she was gone. It didn’t even seem real. I feel like I’ve been losing my mind all night. I didn’t think it was real…I didn’t want it to be. Vera, I swear I don’t know where she is.”

 

Vera sighed. She wanted to believe Bridget, but Franky was her greatest weakness. However, she did feel that Franky would probably try and keep Bridget from getting involved as best she could knowing this would be the first place they looked.

 

“When we called the police last night, two detectives from Franky’s murder cases showed up. Channing practically threw you under the bus, and they want to question you about her. They gave me their card, and they’d like it if you came in today.”

 

Bridget took the business card from Vera. “How bad is it?” She wasn’t asking about the situation. She was asking what the police knew about her and her relationship with Franky. She needed to see if she was a potential suspect. Vera shrugged helplessly.

 

“All they know is that you used to be employed at Wentworth and that during that time you treated Franky Doyle as a client. They also know that you were the last to visit her before all of this.” 

 

Bridget nodded her head in understanding. Vera’s tired face softened. “I could follow you there if you’d like.”

 

Bridget nodded gratefully and pulled her purse to her shoulder. She followed Vera out of her house and then followed her to the police station. She wasn’t exactly prepared to talk to the police at the moment, but it was better to do it now rather than later.

 

\- - - - - -

 

Bridget walked into the police station with Vera. She wasn't at all surprised that Vera had come to see her, but she was surprised how Vera was actively helping her and seemed to be on her side and Franky’s. Vera was a stickler for the rules. A few years ago Vera would have turned her in on the spot and told the police everything she had on her and Franky. But they were friends now, and Bridget thought that, deep down, Vera had a soft spot for Franky or maybe it was just for her.

 

They entered the station and walked to the front desk. Vera notified the officer they were here to speak to two detectives involved with Franky Doyle’s case. The officer gave her a sign-in sheet and asked them to have a seat.

 

Vera sat down on a bench across from the counter and, with a sigh, Bridget joined her. They hadn’t been sitting there long when the station doors opened and, to Bridget's surprise, Alan Doyle walked in. After he signed in, he looked up to find a seat and met Bridget’s gaze. Bridget tried to convey with her eyes that they shouldn't be seen as friends, but she needn't have worried. Alan was a smart man. He walked up to them and smiled at Vera. 

 

"You’re the prison governor, right?” Alan held out his hand to shake Vera’s. “Thanks for the call.”

 

Vera smiled politely at him and shook his hand. "Thank you for coming in, Mr. Doyle. This is Bridget Westfall. She was Franky's therapist at Wentworth." Vera wasn’t sure what kind of relationship Franky or Bridget for that matter had with Franky’s father, so she introduced them out of respect.

 

Alan stuck out his hand and smiled. "Pleased to meet you. Franky might have mentioned ya’. Did quite a bit for my girl so thank you."

 

Bridget nodded, impressed with his act. "Well, she did all the hard work. I merely guided."

 

Alan wrinkled his brow. "Ms. Westfall, you wouldn't mind having a word with me? In private?"

 

Bridget glanced at Vera quickly, wondering what she saw in their interaction. Surely she would guess that the two knew each other? It wouldn't be a leap, considering she knew of hers and Franky's relationship. But Vera simply shrugged. 

 

"I'm sure that's fine."

 

So Bridget stood and followed Alan just outside the station. 

 

"Got the call I see." She said with a bare smile. "Alan we can't be seen talking for too long."

 

"Yeah, I know, Bridget. I know." He looked away for a moment. "Have you seen her?"

 

Bridget's silence answered his question. After a long pause, she said, "I don't know where she is. She let me see her for a moment and then she ran." Bridget sighed. "I didn't think she'd go this far. Did she ever say anything to you that would suggest she would do this?"

 

Alan's jaw tensed, and Bridget recognized the Doyle trait. "Alan?"

 

"She might've asked for my help." He whispered. 

 

"What?"

 

"Didn't she ask for yours?"

 

Bridget looked at him. "Well of course she did, but she didn’t ask of anything to this extreme." She stared hard at Alan and noticed his hesitancy to make eye contact. Franky did the same thing when she didn’t want to tell her something. "Alan, what did you do?" Bridget made sure to keep her voice down when she spoke.

 

The big man rubbed his bald head. "Look, all she asked for was a walkie-talkie. That's all."

 

Bridget tried to reign in her shock. "How did you get it to her?"

 

"…through the prison pipes."

 

"You what?"

 

Alan took a breath to calm his nerves. "I had to do something, alright?" He whispered. "I couldn't just do nothing. Last time I did nothing I almost lost her forever."

 

Bridget sympathized with him. She knew the relationship he had with Franky was still rocky. Of course, he would break a dozen laws for his eldest child.

 

"You said you saw her. Did she - was she ok?"

 

She smiled gently at him. "Yeah. She seemed fine all things considered. She looked…determined.” Allen gave a grim smile. Before Bridget could say any more, someone calling her name interrupted her.

 

"Ms. Westfall? Sorry, am I interrupting?"

 

Alan spoke up before Bridget could turn around. "No. Thank you, Ms. Westfall. It was a pleasure to meet you." 

 

"Likewise."

 

Alan stepped around the detective and went back inside. Bridget turned to face the woman who interrupted them. A woman with dark hair stood at the front door of the station dressed in more business professional clothing than in a typical uniform. She stretched out her hand in greeting and Bridget reciprocated.

 

"Ms. Westfall, I'm Detective Ansari."

 

"Detective."

 

"Would you come with me, please? My partner is already waiting for us."

 

Bridget followed the detective back into the station. She made eye contact with Vera as they walked by and the governor nodded in support. With one last glance at Alan, Bridget followed the detective into the interrogation room.

 

\- - - - -

 

Ansari opened a door for Bridget and allowed her to enter first. A man was sitting at the table and looked up when the door was opened. He was dressed similarly to Detective Ansari in business attire. Bridget assumed this must be her partner.

 

The man stood and held out a hand in greeting. "Detective Harris. Ms. Westfall, I presume? Thank you for coming in on such short notice."  

 

Bridget reached out and shook the other detective's hand. Ansari shut the door and waved an arm out casually for Bridget to sit.

 

"If you would please take a seat, Ms. Westfall, we can get started." Ansari sat in the chair next to her partner and looked across the table at Bridget. "We'd like to ask you some questions. I'd like to advise you that all questions and answers will be recorded."

 

Bridget nodded. She knew how this game was played. This wasn't her first interrogation involving a patient or a prison inmate. It was, however, her first one involving a secret lover. She gathered herself and mentally locked all necessary doors in her mind. If they wanted her to spill the beans on Franky, they were going to be sorely disappointed. She folded her hands and waited for the detectives to start their line of questions. She was curious which one would be the "bad cop."

 

Detective Harris asked his question first with a kind voice. "Ms. Westfall, do you know why you are here?"

 

"I do."

 

"Could you please state it for the recording," Ansari asked.

 

Bridget looked at her once. "I'm here because you believe Franky Doyle has escaped from Wentworth, and you believe that I know her whereabouts."

 

Ansari shifted in her seat. "She has escaped. The prison has been searched, and Ms. Doyle is nowhere to be found."

 

Bridget tilted her head innocently. "That certainly seems like a problem for the authorities.

 

"Do you know where she is?"

 

Bridget laughed, incredulous. "How would I know where she is?"

 

Ansari frowned. "Ms. Doyle was your patient at Wentworth, was she not?"

 

"She was, yes, for the year prior to her initial release. When she came back to Wentworth, I saw her a few more times, but then I left. "

 

Harris spoke before Ansari could continue her interrogation. "What was Ms. Doyle like?"

 

"I'm afraid my sessions are entirely confidential."

 

“What about after your resignation? Your name is in the visitor’s logbook dated a few days ago, so we know that you’ve seen Ms. Doyle? Why did you need to see her?” Detective Ansari spoke up before her partner could continue his questioning.

 

“I just wanted to see how she was transitioning back into prison. I knew how much her parole meant to her and her being inside again would be difficult to handle.”

 

Ansari frowned again and tapped the table in thought. "Were you in a relationship with Ms. Doyle?"

 

Bridget knew who the "bad cop" was now. She held her composure and raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

 

Ansari smiled, somewhat like a cat that'd caught a mouse. "Were you having a relationship with Ms. Doyle during your time at Wentworth?"

 

Bridget eyed her coolly, internally pleased that the phrasing of the question allowed her integrity to remain intact. She didn't have to lie. "No."

 

"So you deny a physical relationship with Ms. Doyle?"

 

That was phrased differently, and by the look on Ansari's face, it had been intentional. Bridget met her stare. "Franky Doyle was a patient of mine. I never have, and would never cross ethical boundaries with a patient."

 

Ansari tilted her head, her dark eyes boring into Bridget's. "That wasn't the question."

 

"I believe I've already answered your question." Bridget was calm.

 

Ansari leaned forward suddenly. "Why did you leave Wentworth? Was Ms. Doyle the reason? Did you know that she was planning to escape? Were you her get away?"

 

"I don't appreciate what you're insinuating."

 

Ansari kept on firing questions. "Or was it a breakup? You couldn't handle the pressures of a secret relationship with an inmate. You left before your secret could come out?"

  
  


"Detective!" Harris finally broke Ansari's line of questioning. "I apologize Ms. Westfall, but I think that is all the questions we have for you. If we have anything further, we will contact you."

 

Bridget stood from her chair gracefully and smoothed her jacket down. She pulled a card from her bag. "Any further questions you may have can be given to my lawyer. G'day detectives."

 

Bridget made it to the door but paused at the sound of Ansari calling her name. She turned around.

 

"You never answered my first question."

 

Bridget regarded the detective for a moment. She wanted to tell this detective where to shove her first question. "I don't know where she is."

 

Bridget turned and walked out of the tiny room, out of the waiting room, and out of the double doors of the police station. She didn't even notice if Alan was still at the precinct or not, and she didn't stop when she heard Vera call out her name. She got back into her car and drove off. She needed to get out of there. That detective had rattled her. She wasn't expecting that line of questioning. They didn't even ask her about Franky's escape. It was all about how Bridget could have been in the wrong.

 

She just wanted to go home. She wanted a drink, but that was something she was trying to cut back on. A nice hot shower would have to do. Bridget made it home and walked inside and headed for her room. She didn't notice anything out of the ordinary until she looked up. 

 

Franky was standing in her closet.

  
_ Shit _ !


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Franky on the run and hiding out.

_“Police are on the lookout for prison escapees Joan Ferguson, former governor of Wentworth Correctional Facility, and Franky Doyle… Doyle and Ferguson are considered extremely dangerous… Their collusion comes as a surprise to Wentworth staff and inmates alike given the apparent conflict between the two…”_  

\- - - - - - - - - - 

 

It'd been nearly a full twenty-four hours since Franky last saw Bridget. She was tempted to go back, but the will to keep her out of this cluster fuck was stronger than her desire to go back… for the moment at least. There was too much charged energy between them anyway. They needed to yell, throw things, whatever it took to cast the sins of her latest incarceration behind them. Franky cringed internally. They'd never fought before. There were arguments, sure, but never had they fought. She wasn't sure what an angry Bridget even looked like outside the walls of the prison. She had a feeling before this was over, she'd know. And it broke her heart knowing that she was the cause for all the older woman's distress. 

 

After Franky left Bridget's house, she made her way to an abandoned building not far from the city. One of her parolees had just done time for drug trafficking in and out of it and had told her about it so that she could avoid getting them a job anywhere near it. The building had been abandoned for a long while, so Franky felt safe enough to make herself at home.

 

She slipped through one of the broken boards covering a window and went up the old creaking stairs. She was comforted by the noise they made. She would know if anyone was coming and she'd already mapped an effective escape route for precaution.

 

She made herself a pitiful pile of belongings and stashed them under some crushed cardboard boxes and sat amongst them. She cracked open a can of soup and sipped its cold contents, thinking. 

 

She'd wanted to start her investigating sooner, but she needed a plan. There was constant danger knowing her mug shot would soon be all over the news, not to mention the number of cops that would be out on the streets hunting her. These things definitely complicated her solo investigation. She needed to lay low for a bit and wait till juicier troubles flooded the telly. She needed to be forgotten by the public; to be background noise. The city cops would forever have their hands full, but a natural disaster wouldn't hurt her cause. Until then, she was forced to hide in this decrepit building and creep around at night. 

 

Franky’s first night she found a store close to where she was staying with a dodgy clerk. He didn’t care who she was as long as she had money to pay for whatever she needed. She bought a burner phone then bought a pan and some matches because she refused to eat cold soup again. The clerk didn’t bat an eye when she paid and left to go back to her hiding place.

 

She didn’t get much sleep that night. She couldn’t keep the thoughts of Bridget away. She couldn’t help but regret how she’d left her, and leaving was the last thing she had wanted to do. The creaking and moaning sounds of the building didn’t help, either. Yes, Franky would be alerted to anyone that might enter the building, but the sounds of the building could be a person just as easily as it could be the wind or a branch. Every time she closed her eyes the building would make a noise, and she would be wide-awake looking for any kind of movement.

 

It was two in the morning and she was still awake. Her mind wouldn’t shut off. She was chomping at the bit to get out there and start trying to prove her innocence.  She knew she needed some sleep, but she had too much pent-up energy. She decided that a workout would have to do. A good run was out of the question, so she did everything from push-ups and crunches to running up and down the stairs. The workout did its job when Franky collapsed on her makeshift bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.

 

\- - - - -

_*whoop-whoop*… *door slams*_

 

Franky bolted awake, the sound of a car door slamming right outside the abandoned warehouse bringing her heart into her throat. She scrambled to her feet, quickly tugging on her boots as she went, and peeked out of the windowless opening facing the street. She let out a quiet groan of panic. It wasn't just any car; it was a fucking cop car! The officer was walking slowly towards the entrance of the warehouse. If she didn't move now, she'd be caught. She quickly grabbed up her things and stuffed them into her pack, slinging it over her shoulder and quietly racing for her escape route, the fire escape. It was rickety at best, but it was her only option.

 

"Hey!"

 

She froze one leg over the opening to the fire escape. She wanted to flee, desperately, but if he had a gun on her, he'd most likely shoot. She wanted so many things, and to be shot was NOT one of them. She grit her teeth and slowly turned.  
The cop was young, and though his gun was not drawn, his hand rested firmly on it.  
He probably hadn't been on the force long, and he clearly didn't recognize her yet.

 

"This is private property. You're trespassing."

 

"I'm sorry. I was just leaving."

 

"You shouldn't be here. What's your name?" What's her name? Franky couldn't give him her real name.

 

"Allie."

 

"Well, Allie, you're trespassing."

 

"I was taking pictures for school. I'm sorry. I'll just leave, ok? I can just leave, right?"

 

The young cop looked like he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. From the look on his face, Franky thought he might arrest her. Then his face softened, and he nodded.

 

"Just get out of here." 

 

Franky breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks."

 

She walked passed him and was just about to make her way down the stairs when a dispatch came over the cop's walkie-talkie that made Franky's blood run cold.

_"All units, all units. Please be advised. Be on the lookout for escaped inmate from Wentworth Correctional. Francesca Doyle. Age 30 approximately five foot six inches. Last possible citing around Chelsea. Wanted for Murder on two counts. Suspect is to be treated as hostile."_

 

Franky ducked her head quickly and continued her descent down the stairs when she heard the cop speak out.

  
"Hey, lady! What did you say your name was?"

 

But Franky didn't stop. All she had to do was make it down the stairs. She picked up her pace even as she heard the cop start to follow her.

 

"Hey! Hey, stop! Stop!"

 

She could hear him coming down the stairs after her. She pushed through the lopsided door and picked up speed as soon as her feet touched the broken pavement. She knew he was following her, and she took a sharp left down an alley. She didn't know where she was going but was grateful it wasn't a dead end.

 

She ran down the alley and saw another turn coming on her right. There was a dumpster on her left. If she went right, she knew he would continue to chase after her. He hadn't made it down the alleyway yet. She took a risk and headed for the dumpster. Just as she crouched behind the dumpster, she heard the cop run down the alley.  
Franky was hoping that he would turn right and continue his fruitless chase, but he stopped just at the turn. She held her breath and waited for him to move on. 

  
"Shit." He muttered, grabbing the walkie-talkie on his shoulder. Franky could hear the barrage of static communication and hardly dared to breathe.  
  


"Dispatch, Adam Four, Code Five… _Dispatch, Code Five, Go ahead_ …I've got a possible siting of the escaped suspect Franky Doyle. I'm about five kilometers from Chelsea Center. Suspect is possibly heading east on foot and wearing a navy jacket. Suspect looked unarmed but can't confirm… _Copy that_."

 

And then he was gone.

 

Franky waited a few minutes before getting out from behind the dumpster.  _So much for laying low._  She took her bag off and unzipped the first zipper. She took her jacket off and stuffed it in the bag and pulled out a thin gray hoodie and dark green sweater. Once she'd finished changing, she grabbed her bag and made her way back the way she came, trying to walk in a casual gait.

 

She stopped just at the corner and poked her head out to make sure the cop was gone. Seeing that the coast was clear, she made her way across the street into another alley. Being on the street was too risky, so popping in and out of alleys would have to do.

 

Franky couldn’t lay low any longer. She had to find answers. She had to find proof. Iman’s place was her first stop, but she needed an address. She had to find a library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> High guys! Sorry for the wait. I'm sorry if the story is moving slow, but things are going to start moving once chapter 5 is posted. I've also updated chapter 3 to fix any errors it might have had.
> 
> Big THANKS to my lovely editor for editing all my stuff!
> 
> I'm still not over how episode 3 ended! I can't believe they got a happy ending. It was bittersweet to watch.
> 
> Let me know what you think of the chapter (and episode 3 if you want) and thanks for reading!! :D

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So this is my first fic EVER! I've been working on this for a long time so I hope you like it. I have a few of the chapters already written so I'll try to post once a week. Let me know what you think. The title was inspired by "Muddy Waters" by LP. Many thanks to Riverrock32 for supporting me and editing all my writing<3


End file.
